by Nadia Lee
“Nope. Couldn’t have done it without her.” He grows thoughtful. “And to think I used to blame her for screwing with my life and business…”
“Everyone gets mad at the beings up there”—I point toward the sky—“from time to time. I’m sure she understood.”
Now, tell him the truth. Tell him you never lost your memory. You’ve been putting it off all day, and now you won’t be able to go to the airport today to fly home.
I hesitate.
Don’t even think about pushing it back to tomorrow.
Grandma Shirley’s voice sounds in my head: A Pryce is decisive. She does not procrastinate.
My palms go slick with sweat, but I know it’s time to talk. I inhale deeply, bracing myself. “Dominic, there’s something I need to tell you…”
“No.” He puts a hand over mine. “You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”
It elicits a nervous giggle. “How do you know whether I’m ready or not?”
“You inhaled, pulled your shoulders back and tightened your jaw like you’re about to go into a boxing match. That’s how.”
I stare at him in shock, my mouth slack. I had no idea. “But it’s about my memory.”
The look fleeting through his eyes is so odd that I can’t make sense of it. “Does it matter whether you remember or not?”
I understand what each word means, and how they should combine into a sentence, but they still don’t make any sense. I feel like there’s something vital missing from what he just said, which is why my brain can’t process it correctly.
“You probably didn’t hear what I told you while you were lying in the hospital,” he adds. “I read you romance novels. They aren’t my type of books, but Antoine said they might help. And all women apparently love romance, so why not? I was willing to do anything to wake you up.”
“Dominic…”
“And when a book got to a dirty scene, I paused and threatened to stop if you kept on sleeping. The scene wasn’t bad, but we’ve had better. We always did.”
The expression on his face is so raw and real and vulnerable that there is no name for it. I’m afraid I’m going to blow this because I’m so desperate for him to love me the way I love him.
“Let me tell you what I said, because it wouldn’t be fair if you never got to hear it while you were awake.” He reaches out and slowly cradles my cheek as he speaks. “A fifth of a second. That’s all it took for me to fall for you. When I first laid my eyes on you, my head went blank except for one thing—you were the most amazing woman I’d ever seen. Until that moment, I thought the whole thing about love at first sight was just some…bullshit people made up to excuse stupid decisions.”
My heart hammers so hard, blood is rushing in my head. But I hear every syllable clearly. I lay a hand over his, wanting this contact to last forever…wishing for his voice to stay this sweet until the end of the time.
“I went after you in St. Cecilia because I had to. You know the portrait hanging in the studio?”
I nod.
“You gave it to me before leaving L.A. I don’t know why.”
Ah, Dominic. It was supposed to free us from each other. Didn’t Tolyan tell you?
He continues, “You…loved that thing, and I didn’t deserve the gift. I… I wasn’t a worthy man for you. Probably still not worthy—”
“Don’t say that. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“I went to St. Cecilia to find out why you gave it to me. I thought you’d fight for it.”
“Why?”
“When I first saw you in the bar ten years ago, I remember thinking you were an angel who could make Lucifer piss himself.”
I laugh softly at the image. I’m no angel.
“When I found out about the insane situation surrounding your portrait, I went to see your father.”
I knew that. I wish I’d been able to prevent the meeting. I couldn’t have been pleasant. Dad’s known for many attributes, but diplomacy isn’t one of them, especially when he has the upper hand.
“Since there were rumors of how much he didn’t like you, I planned to convince him give me the portrait to spite you. Instead, he said all sorts of horrible things, things no father should ever say about his own children. He also thought I was there on your behalf. He said I owed you one for a favor you did me once.”
For a second, I wonder if Dominic knows, then decide he couldn’t possibly. If he had, he would’ve said something during our time in Hawaii.
“I already know the most important pieces—how you fought your grandmother, how you tried to protect me. I still don’t know how you restrained yourself from breaking my nose when you saw me again, because I was a total jackass.”
So he does know. The information didn’t come from Tolyan because he didn’t mention a word of it in St. Cecilia.
“I’ve been unforgivable to you, Liza.” The pad of his thumb brushes along the curve of my cheek.
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision.
“But I’m going to be shameless and ask you to forgive me anyway. You don’t have to answer now. Just give me a little time. I’m going to work hard to earn it.”
The tears fall freely now. They’re hot and fast, nothing like the ones I cried in St. Cecilia during the storm. These are the kind that heal, wash away all the guilt, regret and pain. My heart is full of light, and I feel like the impossible weight pressing down on my shoulders has finally been lifted and tossed aside.
“You don’t need my forgiveness,” I tell him through the tears. “I meant it when I told you we wouldn’t owe each other anything once I gave you the painting. I wanted to set us free from each other—from the past and all the ways things went wrong for us.”
Instead of flinching or asking me how I remember that, he pulls me closer, his forehead on mine, his hand still on my cheek, and the other arm around me, stroking my back slowly and comfortingly.
“When did you know?” I whisper.
“Last night…when I overheard you talking to your grandfather in the studio.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you weren’t ready. I wanted to give you the happy time you said you were looking for… Who am I kidding?” He snorts. “I wanted a few more weeks with you. I wanted to make things right. Yu-Jin told me what she knew, but there had to be more. I haven’t been an easy guy to talk to, but you can lean on me and tell me anything you want. I’ll always be on your side. Team Liza.”
My heart aches—in a good way. I swallow hard, nodding rapidly and blinking away the tears.
This man…
I gave him my soul ten years ago then lost him. I’m not losing him again now.
“Tell me you love me, but only if you mean it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dominic
Tell me you love me, but only if you mean it.
From anybody else, it would be a coy request. From Liza, it’s heartfelt. She needs the words because I never said them. I didn’t think I was good enough ten years ago when I had nothing to my name. When I made my billions, I was too consumed with anger and hurt to recognize and be honest about what’s in my heart.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you, Liza.”
The smile she gives is so brilliant, it hurts to look.
No more dwelling on shoulda, coulda, woulda, or wasting time on the past. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and I’m going to seize every moment, show my angel she didn’t make the wrong choice when she decided to love me…to make her the happiest woman in the world.
I kiss her and taste the salt of her tears. They humble me—that she thought I was worth her tears at all. And her watching out for me—my guardian angel—almost brings me to my knees. She deserves nothing less than my full worship.
Without breaking the kiss, I carry her to the bedroom upstairs. I set her a few feet from the bed and fumble with the tiny buttons on the back of her dress and the laces. She helps, her hands guiding mine, as
desperate as I am to get as close as possible—our bodies bare, no barrier between us.
Her dress finally glides down her body with a soft whisper. My shirt crumples on the floor, and I shove my shorts and underwear down my legs, then kick them out of the way. She undoes the clasp of her bra and lets it fall, then her panties join the heap of fabric on the hardwood.
I fucking love her impatience and hunger, because they match mine. We could live a thousand lives together—I’d never get enough of her.
Our mouths fuse again, hers aggressive, teeth nipping and drawing a drop of blood from my lower lip. The coppery tang mixes with the tears. The taste reminds me of what it took for us to get here, making her even more precious to me.
My body is on fire at her forcefulness. My hand twists in her long, silken hair and tugs it back, leaving her slender throat vulnerable. Her pulse flutters erratically. I feel the wild beating of her heart and know mine’s matching hers, thump by thump.
I feast greedily on her neck—that golden, sun-kissed expanse of delicious flesh—and flick my tongue across the point where her pulse throbs.
A throaty moan.
She’s so alive, so warm, so wonderful.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I thank fate over and over again between kisses. The odds were so, so long—we shouldn’t even have met, much less ended up together.
A hand at her back, I work my way down, licking, nipping, sucking and kissing every inch of her lean, gorgeous torso. One tremor after another runs through her, interspersed with lusty little gasps and sharp intakes of air. I place my index finger at the very tip of a pointed nipple and lightly move it side to side, stimulating it with just enough pressure to drive her insane. Her nipple beads harder, and I watch it like it’s the hottest and most mesmerizing natural phenomena ever.
“Dominic, please—” A gasp cuts off her plea as I pinch her nipple between my thumb and middle finger. She presses her breast into my hand.
Not quite enough. I want her to seek her pleasure shamelessly, use me to make herself feel awesome. Whatever turns her on turns me on; whatever she likes, I like.
“Oh my God…” Her back arches. “Just suck it.”
I laugh low and dark at her brazen demand. To reward her, I pull as much of her breast as I can into my mouth.
“Dominic!” Her fingers drive into my hair, holding on tight.
I want to do more, but the position I’m in is a bit awkward. I maneuver her back until her hamstrings hit the edge of the mattress. “On your back.”
“Yes,” she whispers, and lies down.
Her heated gaze on mine, she spreads her thighs wide apart, creating the most indecently erotic scene I’ve ever seen in my life. Her pink flesh is already slick and flushed.
Since I can’t bear to leave the other breast neglected, I suck its tip, trapping it between the roof my mouth and tongue, while my fingers trail down her belly. She bows her back, pushing her tit into my mouth. I give it a long, hard suck before starting to let it glide out. When only the very tip of her nipple’s between my lips, I give it a light nip. She shudders like she just got electrocuted.
“God, you’re killing me,” she says in a pant.
“No, Liza. I’m loving you. And I’m going to eat your pussy until you scream my name.”
Her face flushes two shades redder. I smirk as I bury my face between her legs. It’s always such a rush to go down on her—and revel in her slick texture, honeyed taste and the tremors that start so minutely…then grow as she bucks against me. Since I can’t talk to persuade her to use me, I sweet-tongue her instead, thrusting in, then dragging the flat of my tongue up to her clit, repeating the actions until she writhes and begs.
“Yes, yes, yes—harder, more—God!”
When I withhold, she tunnels her fingers into my hair and rocks against my face. My blood turns to molten lava. She’s never been this free with my body, this blatant about her needs.
She climaxes, her pussy and clit pulsing against my face. Fuck, I love this.
I love her…and I can’t wait anymore. I position myself and push forward inch by inch. I was inside her just hours ago, but this feels different. More vulnerable, but at the same time more powerful.
I love you.
Saying those three words out loud, confirming what’s in our hearts, elevates this from great sex to something transcendent. I feel utterly exposed, but instead of panic, I feel strong, at peace. She lifts me up, making me whole.
“I love you,” I tell her, because she deserves to hear the words again—to share the completeness I feel.
“I love you too,” she whispers back, a tear streaking down from a corner of her eye as she gifts me with a radiant smile.
I move against her, pushing her toward another climax as I chase mine. She’s so slick and sensitive, it takes almost no time before she convulses around me.
I keep going, helping her ride the orgasm as long as she can, ignoring the sizzling sensation gathering at the base of my spine and balls.
She clutches my shoulders, locks her legs around me. “Don’t pull out.”
“Liza, you aren’t on—”
“I want it.”
Her words register, filling my head with a vision of her belly swollen with my baby—our baby—and I lose control.
Head thrown back, muscles and tendons tight to the point of snapping, I come so hard it feels like there’s an earthquake.
I collapse on her, and she holds me tight. “Thank you,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss over a corner of my lips. “You left me a possible present, Dominic.” She wraps her small hand around my wrist. “For that, I can’t thank you enough.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elizabeth
“Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to get up and eat.”
Hiding a smile, I burrow deeper under the covers. It’s after ten, but I’m too pleasantly sore and languid to get out of bed.
“Come on, now… Can’t you smell it?”
I can sense Dominic move something left to right, then back over and over again near my head. I sniff, get a whiff of fresh coffee.
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. King,” I mumble, still not quite ready to give up the warm, comfy bed to go downstairs.
“Not as hard as you, Ms. Pryce-Reed.” He kisses my temple. “I brought you breakfast. All you have to do is sit up.”
“Ah…you know how to tempt a woman.”
“I know exactly what you like.” His voice gains a lascivious edge. “Don’t dawdle…or I’ll distract you until the coffee goes cold.”
I giggle, then sit up, pulling the sheet to cover my breasts. “You kept me up half the night, which is why I’m trying to get extra sleep.” My attempt at primness fails when another fresh giggle bubbles in my throat at his affronted look.
“Half? It was at least three-quarters.”
Snorting, I take the mug from his hand and take a good mouthful. Ahhh… This is amazing. “The elixir of life.”
He settles next to me on the bed and places a tray over my lap. “Here.”
“Pancakes and waffles! Yay!” I give him a wide grin. “Did we run out of bagels?”
“I thought you might like some variety.”
I take a small bite of the fluffy pancakes. They’re so moist and cloud-soft, I close my eyes to savor the taste. “Amazing.”
“I know.”
“Is there anything you can’t do? You’re great at cooking, make oodles of money and are fantastic in bed.”
His grin widens. Did his chest puff out? The headset in his helicopter may not fit anymore.
“I don’t know about the first two, but I wholeheartedly agree about the sex. It’s hotter and better.” He licks a drop of syrup from my lips, and just like that, I’m wet again.
And my insidious mind whispers, Of course he’s fantastic in bed…hotter and better. He’s had loads of experience in the last ten years. Did you see all the gorgeous women he was linked to?
“I’m t
rying to eat here,” I joke, spearing another piece of pancake and doing my best to push away the jealousy and pain unfurling in my heart.
I shouldn’t hold that against him. It’s unreasonable to expect a man in his prime to abstain for a decade. Dominic and I weren’t engaged or anything. Of course he dated other women.
“What’s wrong?”
Oh no. Did I let my face show my feelings? Grandma Shirley taught me to be careful because I have expressive features. I needed to hide everything except the ones I wanted people to see.
I school myself until I know I’m projecting happy and content. “I was thinking the pancakes would taste better with dark chocolate syrup.”
“Come on, Liza. I deserve better than a fake mask and pat answer.”
Great. It’s too late to hide my feelings. “It’s silly.”
“It isn’t silly if it puts that kind of look on your face.”
“I was thinking I was sore,” I say feebly.
Arching an eyebrow, he gives me a stubborn look. “Elizabeth.”
“I thought you were so good because you had lots of practice over the last ten years,” I say as fast as I can, hoping he doesn’t catch most of it. If he asks me to repeat, I’m going to tell him no, you only get one chance.
Dominic stares at me like I just sprouted a Venus flytrap from my forehead. “Liza… Why do you think that?”
I sigh. He heard every tumbling word out of my mouth. “I saw the articles. It’s impossible not to when I was looking you up time to time.” I’m not telling him I have a Google alert set up. That would be too humiliating.
“I was never as indiscriminate as the tabloids made me out to be,” he says. “I was working such crazy hours and so hard, most days, I just wanted to collapse and get what few hours of sleep I could get. And when I had a woman…” He breathes out roughly. “I’m not going to lie and say I never slept with anyone. But the truth is, I never liked it much. It always made me feel vaguely gross and caused me to rush to the shower. You see me running to the shower every time we have sex?”